Purify
by Miz the Heartless
Summary: Salreth Red-Eyes would never forget that night. The night he murdered his family and sold himself to Daedra. Reviews would be greatly appreciated. Rated T for violence and implied intercourse.


Salreth Red-Eyes. The savior of Kvatch. The Chosen One of the Daedra. A hero in every city of Cyrodil. And, known to few, an indispensable disciple of Sithis.

Every night he thanked the Dread Father for another day of service. And every day he awoke, with his brethren happily nearby.

Teinaava, his cunning brother. Their friendship was unwavering. Countless were the times the Shadowscale had bailed Salreth out of jams, and of the times his advice had saved the latter's life.

Vincente Valtieri, the father Salreth had never had. That was a lie, Salreth had a father. But Arneth Red-Eyes had vanished in his search for Akatosh, leaving the young Argonian to live in a cruel Vvarvendel. Vincente could feel that suffering, and helped Salreth to vent.

"I have a special contract that needs fulfillment. In truth. I don't wish to offer it to any other family member. I've come to rely on your abilities."

Those words gave Salreth more pride than being called the Savior of Kvatch.

Antoinetta Marie, a younger sister to kill for. Her ambitions to pass Ocheeva were amusing, for one so young, and yet her own past rang like his own. Constantly running, going from prison to prison, until finally, salvation.

M'raaj-Dar, his unspoken rival. Though few good words past between them, Salreth always trusted what the Khajiit sold him, as M'raaj always asked for the Argonian's advice first on a contract. Despite their rivalry, both held respect for each other.

Telaendril, the level-headed sister. The Bosmer's sound advice always rang of truth. She too, held Salreth's curse of wanderlust, and many time had the two been alarmed to see each other in the streets of Cyrodil.

Gogron gro-Bolmog, brother and guardian. The Orc, while not particularly bright, held a soft spot in Salreth's heart by a throttle-hold. His simple answers to problems were typically the messiest, but his intentions were always genuine. And Salreth would never forget when he had given up hope, to find the Orc outside his prison cell.

Finally, Ocheeva. By the Nine, how that name rang in his mind. Calm, calculating, with just a hint of dark humor. She was something special. She was his first love. Not that he'd ever actually_ tell _her that, even if he became suicidal. She'd never accept him, a lowly Assassin. Instead, he was content to watch as she took his anonymous notes to her room, sometimes daring to present them to her (always as a confused bystander). She'd take them, her face always blank, and they would disappear from existence. His heart throbbed at her lack of emotion, yet was relieved that she at least wasn't outraged.

All these people, he remained purely loyal to, never wanting anything to change.

Then Lucien summoned him, and gave him the Purification. As Salreth heard this, his face turned blank, his skin paled and his legs weakened. He returned to the Sanctuary, and slept for days. When he finally awoke, he was unsurprised to see Gogron and Antoinetta hovering over him. The two sighed as he looked at them.

"Dear Brother, we thought Sithis had claimed you," Marie said.

"Well?" a sweet voice called from the shadows, "He's awakened, I take it?" Ocheeva sat down at his bed, "Back to your chores, you two," she said annoyed. The two reluctantly exited, leaving the Argonians to themselves.

"It is good that you awoke," she said, a cool smile on her face, "We were just about to let Vincente have you for a meal or two." the two chuckled, before Ocheeva asked, "What in the Night Mother did Lucien do to you?"

"We just...talked," Salreth responded, "I am to perform a special errand for him, a job with the very honor of Sithis at stake," she believed his lies, he could tell. After all, he had never lied before, why should he now?

"Lachance's word is law," she said, much to his dismay, "I shall pray for your success," Salreth closed his eyes again, giving a silent pray to the Night Mother, when something peculiar happened. All of a sudden, a small squeezing sensation erupted from his hand, like another's hand closing firmly around it, "Come back victorious , dearest Brother. It's been a while since I received a letter from you," was whispered into his ear, and a soft kiss was planted on his leathery cheek.

When the door closed, Salreth stood straight up, aghast at the realization of his discovery, "By Sithis, she's good..."

A week was spent preparing, plotting, and planning. It would be stupid to refuse Lucien, he knew another killer, possibly even more demented, would be sent. This would be their best chance for quick deaths, and so Salreth readied to kill his family. When he returned, he held an air of pride and confidence.

"It is done!" he proclaimed, "I have pleased Sithis," his family congratulated him warmly, even M'raaj-Dar, who had surprisingly softened to him. So Salreth decided, while basking in praise, he'd wait to make his move.

Eight times the church bell rang. It was almost dark. The time was now.

A plate of beautiful, ripe apples sat on the dining table. Salreth sat, at his side, Antoinetta Marie. Across sat Teinaava and Gogron. Salreth went first, plucking the one safe apple from the bowl. His brethren did the same, and all four bit into them. Teinaava was first to succumb. He was halfway to drinking a cup of mead, when his body tipped over, falling lifelessly across the floor. Marie jumped back, and fell before she could utter a scream.

Gogron partly realized what happened, and turned to Salreth, "Brother! Do not bite your-" he paused mid-sentence, and fell solidly forward, the wooden table protesting under his weight.

Salreth moved their corpses to the beds, blanketing them carefully, and left the room. Across the hallway, M'raaj Dar was inside the training room, practicing his already formidable spells. Salreth entered and wordlessly trained beside him. He waited until the Khajiit had sat down to recover his magicka, then sliced his blade at him. Had M'raaj seen it coming, or had been faster, he'd have survived. Unfortunately, the blade had split his throat in two before any reaction could happen.

Vincente was already asleep when Salreth entered the room. Confident that he was safe from harm, the Vampire did not even stir. As a sword plunged into his chest, he finally awoke, only to realize that he could barely move.

"I found your note," Salreth said, "And there's enough garlic here to stun a Scamp with its odor."

"But not enough..." the 300 year old Vampire groaned, "...To help you beat me!" Somehow, he managed to draw his blade, and even found the strength to charge at Salreth. But the garlic had taken his tole, and he had fallen with considerable ease.

"By Sithis and the Dread Mother..." Came Telaendril's voice. Salreth turned to see the Bosmer, bow at the ready, observing the scene before her.

"Sister, I didn't want you to see this. I had hoped you would have take one of the poison apples in the living quarters."

"Why?" she asked, confusion and terror fighting to dominate her face.

"Because Lachance commanded it," came the dull reply, "And Lachance's word is law," Telaendril fire an arrow a second to late to hit Salreth, and the Argonian plunged his blade into her guts, "Rest now, dear sister," he whispered. Had his hand not covered her mouth, she might have answered. But he did not let go until her breath left her.

He drew his blade and turned to depart, when a strange light caught his eye. On the ground, brushed off Vincente's desk during the struggle, lay a familiar knife. An idea formed in Salreth's head as he took the knife, and headed towards the final prey.

Ocheeva was reading when Salreth entered her private room. When she saw him there, she smiled, "Hello, dearest brother," she said in a faint voice, as if someone would hear her.

Salreth knew no one would, but played along, "_The Lusty Argonian Maid_? I never knew you were into such stories, dearest sister,"

Ocheeva chuckled, "Maybe I'm doing research,"

"One what subject?"

A mischievous grin crept across her face, "On the subject of getting a certain male into my bed,"

Her arms had wrapped around his neck, as his had her waist. By the Nine, Salreth could smell a heavenly aroma, her natural scent, begin to cloud his mind and pleasure his senses. He could hear the voice, his voice of Sithis, cry out for him to act. But he ignored it, and instead met lips with Ocheeva, and let passion and instinct do the rest.

Ocheeva had closed her eyes, as the two's bodies cooled down. She hadn't noticed the knife being drawn until if sank into her. Her eyes widened and her breath came out as a gasp. She gazed at Salreth, "W-Why...?"

"For the Dread Father..." he mumbled faintly, "For Lucien, whose word is law," he felt her hands around his neck, too weak to do anything to him. Instead, he caressed her face, until her eyes closed. As Ocheeva's last thoughts faded, she heard his voice, "But you were the only one..."

* * *

Ocheeva's body lay in its new bed, in Salreth's Arborwatch. He smiled lightly at her peaceful face, "You were the only one..." he said again, "...That I gave the Languorwine to,"

* * *

_Why do you summon me, mortal? I have no need of you," _Nocturnal's voice, sweet and subtle as midnight, echoed through his mind.

Salreth did not avert his gaze from the foot of her shrine, "Lady Nocturnal, whose eye can see every item in the shadows, I beg of you to find me, whichever dark dungeon it be in, the cure for the Languorwine potion."

Nocturnal was silent for a time, _That drought lies in not dungeon or ruin, pilgrim. I fear you have no chance of retrieving it._

"Nevertheless, I must!" the Argonian said determined, "I will take whatever trial, punishment, or task for it!"

The Daedra Prince sighed, _Because you retrieved my Eye and Hood_, she finally said, _And because you have proven a grand disciple, I shall tell you. The potion you seek lies in the cellars of Whyhm, the stronghold of Clavicus Vile. Yet I know of your betrayal of him, as well as he. He will not part with this gift lightly._

Salreth stood, and wordlessly left the shrine, steeling himself for quite a negotiation.

* * *

Vile's laughter was the same as the rest of him; obnoxious and tiring, _Honestly little mortal, you had the gall to presume that I would give you such a thing? After you broke our deal __**and**__ slew my followers for that hump of flesh, Mora! What ignorance!_

Salreth stared at the shrine in full force, "I don't like the thought of asking you for help, either," he said bluntly, "But I must to achieve my goal," he knelt to Clavicus, "Whatever price you ask for the antidote, I shall pay in full. Ask of me,"

Whatever went through Clavicus Vile's mind then, came out quickly, _Well, I suppose I could bare to part with it, for a price._ had it not been made of stone, Salreth would have sworn the shrine was sneering at him, _I want...your freedom. For five years you have to be my hound, my slave. You will do every slight whim that dashes across my brilliant mind, and with a smile on your face. And I won't lie; I'm going to make your life a living hell for those five years. Now think, is that antidote worth it?_

Salreth nodded, "For what it will do, it is worth everything,"

A portal formed at the side of the Argonian. _Well, come on! I'm a busy deity; I don't have all day!

* * *

_

The Arborwatch soon gained many a dark legend about itself. Some said that inside housed a warrior's finest treasures, worth a king's ransom. Others said that inside was a sleeping maiden, awaiting her true love for her to awaken. However, not a soul dared to see if those rumors were true, as the one thing all legends agreed on was that inside the housed awaited dark creatures. Daedra and undead mostly, however some claim to have seen those with the armor of the Dark Brotherhood pass into its doors. And so the house remained dark and enigmatic, waiting for its master to return.


End file.
